Of Pranks and Consequences
The silver and gold accents of the small room glittered in the glow of enchanted lanterns where the two, young moon elves sat. One, a short, silver-haired girl, glared at her blue-haired counterpart across a low table. The second elf sat with her head lowered, paying attention to a book in her lap. When she looked up on occasion, a small smirk would cross her lips and an unmistakable glint of mirth lit her eyes. She seemed barely able to contain her glee and this only seemed to irritate the first elf further. Ilmen’lome was only a few months into her time at the Evereskan Academy of Magic, but she had already begun to make her mark. Her irreverence and seeming lack of any manner of work habits at all had earned her the scorn of several of her upper classmen, among them the silver-haired, moon elf, Isilanna , who sat across from her now. The two had become fast enemies and their enmity had become well known amongst the other students. Ilmen’lome seemed to take much pleasure in angering Isilanna and, as a result, had fallen prey to much abuse by her rival and her friends. All the same, the young elf continued her relentless war of mischief. It was this war that had brought them to where they were now, waiting to answer for the events that had transpired only short hours before. Ilmen’lome was delighted by this turn of events, it was all going as she had planned. The pale blue daggers that she could feel upon her only increased her joy, it would not be long and Ilyanna would fall fully into her trap. Now all she need do was wait to be called in front of the Headmaster of the Academy. The day had dawned brightly under deep blue skies. The color of the leaves overhead had begun fade as early, autumn breezes rustled the boughs. Shadows dappled the grass on the grounds of the Academy and swayed in rhythm with the cool winds. Young students in grey robes and sashes, the color of which marked the year of study they were in, moved gracefully amongst the trees as they scurried to their first classes of the morning. A small group of moon and sun elves spoke and laughed merrily together as they walked beneath the trees toward a small building. As they passed, the slender form of a blue-haired moon elf slipped silently from the tree behind them. Barefoot with her dark-grey sash marking her as a first-year student, the moon elf followed silently amongst the shadows cast from the leaves above. As the trees had yet not begun to shed their leaves, the soft moss underfoot kept her footfalls silent, as she seemed to almost stalk the group ahead. As the elves entered the building Ilmen’lome slipped along the outside of the building to the right of the door, ducking her head under windows that were spaced unevenly along the walls. After rounding a corner she stopped and found an alcove that rose in shadow the entire sixty foot height of the structure. Once she stood in the alcove the moon elf used her sash to tie her robes up at her waist in order to free her legs. Taking full advantage of the magic of Evereska’s mythal, the young elf pressed her hands to the side of the building, where they easily adhered and, using both bare hands and feet she began to scamper agilely up the wall like a spider to an open window twenty feet overhead. Clambering through headfirst, she dropped silently to the floor and swiftly rearranged her robes, allowing their length to drop over her legs once again. Although it would not be seen as unusual, Ilmen’lome still wished to remain unseen, and so she slipped silently along the walls, hurrying to her destination before any others should reach this floor. Finally coming to a darkened room, she slipped inside and closed the door gently behind her. Crossing to the back of the room where two small bags were carefully laid out, Ilmen’lome sat cross-legged between them to begin her preparations. She knew she must move quickly for it would not be long now. ---- Isilanna absently smoothed her robes as she sat, waiting, in one of the chairs that ringed a small dais not more than five strides in breadth. A bored expression on her face, the young elf scanned the room, watching her classmates whisper and gossip amongst themselves. She found her eyes drawn toward the sunlight streaming in from the windows, how she wished she was elsewhere. The loud clicks of wood-soled shoes reverberated from the hallway heralding, as they always did, the arrival of Mistress Eledhwel. All eyes turned to watch the ancient gold elf enter the room and stride purposefully to the center of the dais. Having spent the last two centuries at the Academy after arriving from Evermeet, Mistress Eledhwel was a hard taskmaster. She taught divining, a subject that Isilanna found utterly tedious and made no effort to hide it. This had brought her into conflict with the ancient elf on more than one occasion. The last of these incidents was not more than a tenday past, and Isilanna was now convinced that the diviner would like nothing better than to see her fail at the Academy. Even now, she could feel the old elf’s disapproving gaze upon her. The Mistress began her lesson in her typical strong, droning voice and Isilanna struggled to listen. As she sat quietly, the elf found her mind wandering to thoughts of friends and other concerns common to the young. The bright sun outside the window almost seemed to beckon for her to run from this classroom into its warmth. As she looked back to the dais a shadow suddenly seemed to fall across her and she quickly snapped her head back to the windows. For a moment, she thought that she had seen a flash of blue but quickly dismissed it as a trick of the light. It was then that she felt the eyes on her from the center of the room and looked up to see Mistress Eledhwel glowering down at her. Isilanna just lowered her head and did her best to pay attention to the lecture. The class seemed to go on forever and just as she had resigned herself to being subjected to the ancient elf’s frequent glares Isilanna felt a soft flick of her right earlobe. She knew what this meant, it was a silent signal, a cantrip used amongst her friends. Looking to the open door she saw the gold elf, Andune, peering in with a sly grin on her lips. She beckoned to Isilanna then ducked back out of the doorway. This was a dare and Isilanna knew it. Andune knew how much she hated this class and was challenging her to leave. She knew she already had Mistress Eledhwel’s disfavor, it could likely get no worse. Finally after several moments of indecision Isilanna took a deep breath and stood up. Mistress Eledhwel’s head immediately turned her direction. “Uma, Isilanna , you wish to speak?” Isilanna felt her face flush and her voice tremble as she responded, “Mistress Eledhwel, I respectfully request that I may be excused. I feel ill and should return to my room to rest.” The ancient elf regarded her closely, a frown crossing her lips. “With your behavior of late why should I grant this request?” “Mistress, considering these past days, and how I have displeased you, I would not dare ask this unless I felt it necessary.” Under the old diviner’s gaze Isilanna felt her knees go weak. She had made a mistake, she knew it. Not only would she not be allowed to go but she’d only angered her teacher further. “Very well, Isilanna , go. But I had best see you here tomorrow fresh and awake, do you understand?” Hesitating a moment in her surprise Isilanna finally stammered her acknowledgement and crossed quickly through the door into the hallway. Andune must be having a grand laugh at her expense, but at least she was free of the tedium. Looking around, however, there was no sign of her friend. Odd, she thought, the gold elf normally would have waited but, no matter, she was likely just outside. Her heart feeling considerably lightened, Isilanna walked swiftly toward the stairs to finally enjoy what this day had to hold. ---- From her vantage point, sprawled insect-like against the wall, Ilmen’lome let a small smile cross her lips as she peered through the open window and into the classroom. She had discarded of her robes and, although still barefoot, the moon elf was now wearing soft, leather breeches and a blue, cotton tunic. Her position, clinging to the side of this building, was rather precarious, and she could only trust to luck that none would see her. As she looked on Isilanna left the room. The glamour Ilmen’lome had cast to cause her rival to think Andune was waiting had worked as she had planned. This was turning out to be even more enjoyable than she had hoped. It had been all Ilmen’lome could do not to laugh when she’d seen Isilanna ’s discomfort as she asked permission to leave. Now for the next stage of her plan. After waiting several moments to be certain that Isilanna was well clear of the room, Ilmen’lome reached to her belt with her right hand pulled a neatly rolled parchment from her waist. Deftly unrolling it she read the words scribed on the scroll. As she finished the last syllable a small, greenish-gray cloud appeared in the center of the dais and swiftly began to expand outward to fill the room, accompanied by shouts of alarm and fits of coughing from those inside. A sudden gust from the released magics blew the parchment from Ilmen’lome’s hand and she cried out softly in dismay, she yet needed the spent scroll! Quickly scrambling down the wall and dropping the last ten feet, the young elf grabbed her boots and cloak from where she had set them against the building and pursued the scroll to where it had gently drifted to the grass. Just as she snatched up the torn parchment Ilmen’lome looked up to see Isilanna exit the building just a few dozen feet away. As her rival’s head swiveled to locate Andune, the moon elf dove behind a tree, out of view, and swiftly pulled on her boots and cloak. Of course Isilanna would not find her friend as she was never there. As she finished clasping her cloak, Ilmen’lome peered from behind the grey trunk to see that Isilanna had walked past her hiding spot and down the path, she had not been seen. Breathing a sigh of relief, and thanking the Fey Jester for her good fortune, the young elf rose to her feet and dashed off under the trees, sparing a quick glance back as the noxious cloud she had released began to pour from the open windows above. With a slight laugh blue-haired elf embarked on her final task, now she must dispose of this scroll appropriately. ---- Isilanna searched the grounds outside for Andune. Where had she gone off to so fast? Her friend was nowhere to be seen. The silver-haired elf began down he path back towards her room in the hopes that Andune would meet her there. As she walked, her eyes looking ahead, down the path, in the hopes of a glimpse of the gold elf, she heard a few shouts raised behind her. Looking back to the building she had just left she saw an odd, greenish cloud drifting from a few windows. Before her surprise at this sight wore off someone walked straight into her from the trees just off the trail to her right, nearly knocking her from her feet. She turned quickly to face a slight, blue-haired elf a couple years her younger. The younger elf stammered nervously, “sorry, Isilanna , my mind was elsewhere.” “Gods, Ilmen’lome, do you ever pay attention to what you are doing?” Isilanna responded, her voice sharp with annoyance. “It was an accident, no need to get angry” Isilanna frowned and glared at Ilmen’lome. Although the younger elf was a couple inches taller, she was very slender, almost frail in appearance. She also noted that Ilmen’lome was not in her robes but in clothing better suited for hiking. “Skipping class again I see. Well you certainly will not be with us long, and I cannot say I am unhappy about that.” “I had asked permission,” Ilmen’lome protested. “There were several things I needed for components. What do you care anyway? You have half of the teachers bowing to you because of your family’s name. Seems rather pointless for you to worry about what I do.” At this a small smile crossed Isilanna ’s lips. “That may be the first thing you have ever said that I agree with.” The older elf then turned away from her and looked back to the cloud that was just beginning to dissipate. Ilmen’lome opened her mouth as if to retort then, thinking better of it, finally stalked off towards the building that housed the students. Although she was some distance from the building, Isilanna could see that a few students were sitting on the ground outside the door she just came through, and a couple more were being carried out. As she continued to watch, three more students dragged out the unmistakable figure of Mistress Eledhwel and laid her limp form onto the grass. It was then that it occurred to her, the green cloud had been spilling from the windows of the class she had just left. As she watched the final remnants of it fade, Isilanna did not see a couple of the students point her way. Nor did she notice the torn, spent scroll that was now tucked into the sash of her robes. ---- The setting sun streamed through the windows giving the room Isilanna stood in an orange hue. She stood watching as two footmen, sent by her father, carried her bags to a waiting disc kept elevated from the path below by magic. She did not want to move, she did not wish to leave this room as it would be acknowledging her failure. Everything she’d worked for all these years, all her hopes, shattered. She had planned to join the Spellguard and work her way through the ranks to a position of great authority as her father did and his father before him, but without Academy training she knew this was now impossible. Certainly she could one day aspire to service with the Spellguard, but having been kicked out of the Academy and likely trained by some no-account hedgemage from the Greycloaks, she’d never successfully negotiate the political maneuvering to be anything better than just another mage. Turning her eyes to look over the Academy’s grounds she still could not believe what had transpired. That little wench, Ilmen’lome, had set her up by planting the scroll that released on her person. Mistress Eledhwen and three students had all been overcome by the noxious fumes and passed out. Fortunately the ancient gold elf would recover, but no one was amused by the prank. Although she had told the Headmaster that she believed that Ilmen’lome was responsible, the blue-haired elf had just looked at them innocently and behaved as if she had no idea what had occurred. She had claimed that she’d been off in search of spell components and producing a large pouch filled with herbs and roots as proof. Well she would pay, Isilanna vowed. She’d go to these hedgemages and her father would pay whatever fee was required. She’d learn from them one by one, taking what knowledge and secrets she could and then move to the next until she was ready. Then she’d find Ilmen’lome and make her pay for what she’d done. Her plans, her dreams, her life was ruined so she’d make certain to visit the same tenfold on the worthless, little witch. Category:Stories